


Thanks

by raisingmybanner



Series: get myself back home [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brogane, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisingmybanner/pseuds/raisingmybanner
Summary: If Shiro is going to take the high road all the time, then someone has to take the low road. It might as well be Keith.
Series: get myself back home [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/725445
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Thanks

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place near the beginning of Keith's time with the Shiroganes.

Keith hooks his thumbs through the strap of his messenger bag and rocks back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, eyes scanning the approaching traffic to the school. Shiro had said he was going to pick him up today, since his class was getting out early. The minutes pass, and he starts to think he’ll just walk back to the house — Shiro must have forgotten — when he sees the beat-up minivan pull up to the curb. Shiro hops out of the driver’s side and waves at him. Keith rolls his eyes; Shiro looks more goofy than he probably realizes.

“Sorry, Keith; class didn’t get out as early as the prof said it would,” Shiro says, jogging up to him and ruffling his hair.

Keith shakes it back into disorder and shrugs.

“It’s fine,” he says heading for the car.

“Hey,” Shiro says suddenly, and Keith turns back to look at him. He looks concerned, and Keith can’t figure out why. “I really am sorry. I made a promise.”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Keith says dismissively, but a bubble of warmth pops in his chest nonetheless.

“Okay,” Shiro says, moving for the door.

“Shirogane!”

Keith and Shiro both turn to the source of the voice, a smirking man who looks maybe a year or two younger than Shiro, striding down the sidewalk toward them.

“Nice wheels, Takashi,” he says with evident distaste, then laughs.

“Nice to see you again, too, Trey.”

“Who’s the pipsqueak?” Trey asks, jerking a thumb at Keith without looking at him.

“My brother,” Shiro says. The warm bubble expands for a moment before he jerks it back in. He’s only been living with them for a few months. Shiro isn’t the first person to pretend he’s a “real brother” only to wave goodbye and never contact him again when he leaves.

“Your poor parents,” Trey laughs. “Didn’t realize there was another one of you. Is he as uptight as you are? Where’d you inherit that from, anyway, your mom?”

Shiro stiffens, and Keith puts himself in front of his brother, crossing his arms.

“Get lost, jerk,” he says.

“Wow, tough guy,” Trey says, looking down at him for the first time.

He’s only an inch or two taller than Keith, who is fairly tall for his age. A fact that gets him into more trouble than ever before at school because now he “looks like a threat” or something.

Trey’s eyes glint with amusement and a hint of cruelty. That would be enough to make a lot of kids Keith’s age back up, but not Keith. Trey isn’t half as scary as some of his foster brothers and foster fathers had been. Keith’s not particularly strong, but he knows how to fight, and he’s fast.

“Yeah,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “I am.”

“Easy,” Shiro says, the hand falling on his shoulder startling him out of his focus for a moment.

“Don’t worry, Takashi, I won’t hit your baby brother,” Trey says, the tone of his voice grating all along Keith’s nerves. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you any more than you embarrass yourself.”

Keith’s fist is flying before the last word is out of his mouth, and he lands a square hit on Trey’s jaw. The young man yelps before swinging a punch of his own, which Keith dodges before jabbing him hard in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

That’s all he can do before Shiro is grabbing him, pulling him off Trey with one hand on his shoulder and the other firmly around his wrist.

He looks at Trey for a moment before evidently deciding not to say anything. He heads back to the car, pulling open the passenger door and letting Keith climb in before closing it firmly behind him. Keith watches Trey regain his footing through the window and smirks when the young man flips him the bird and mouths something that looks like a cross between three different profanities. He almost returns in kind, but Shiro’s getting in on the driver’s side and he doesn’t look particularly pleased with the situation.

Keith sighs and scrunches down in the seat.

Shiro starts driving, and it takes a few minutes for Keith to realize that he isn’t driving to the house. He pulls into the lot of Bainbridge Park and puts the car in park.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks.

Keith shrugs.

Shiro sighs.

“You don’t… you don’t have to let everything everyone says get to you, you know? You can just ignore them. What they say doesn’t change what’s true about you.”

“He wasn’t talking about me,” Keith mutters, looking out the window. He doesn’t care what people think about him. He used to scream and fight a lot when he was little, but as he got a little older he realized he just didn’t care. But, school records transfer. And foster records transfer. And no one wants to believe that a teenager could be less violent than they used to be. So he still gets into fights sometimes, for the fun of it. If they’re going to label him a troublemaker, he has to cause _some_ trouble.

But he wasn’t bored today. And he didn’t really feel like fighting. Why _had_ he fought Trey? Keith frowns, trying to remember.

“Then why did you fight him?” Sometimes it feels like Shiro is reading his mind, which is exactly as creepy as it sounds.

Keith shrugs again.

“Keith.”

He sighs and adjusts his position on the seat.

“I dunno,” he says, still looking out the window.

“Did what he said bother you?”

“Well, yeah,” Keith looks at him like he’s stupid.

“Was it true?”

“No,” Keith rolls his eyes again and looks out the window.

“Then don’t let it bother you.”

“Doesn’t it bother _you?”_ he asks.

Shiro pauses for a moment, clearly caught off-guard.

“What?”

“He was insulting you,” Keith says slowly.

Shiro is quiet for a moment. Keith can feel his eyes on the side of his head, but he’s still looking out the window.

“Is that why you got mad?” Shiro says, his voice even quieter now. “Because he was insulting me?”

Keith blinks. _Yeah, that’s exactly why._

“I guess.”

Shiro’s arm wraps around him, and Keith stiffens, unsure what Shiro’s about to do. But he just leans over and pulls Keith into an awkward half-hug, jangling Keith’s chin against his shoulder.

“What was that for?” he asks, squirming back into his seat and giving Shiro the sparest glance he could muster. Shiro has a strange look on his face, and it’s weirding Keith out.

“Thanks,” Shiro says.

And that’s so inexplicable that Keith just looks at him full on, eyes half-narrowed and completely confused. Are they having two separate conversations here? Shiro chuckles a little, then shifts the car into reverse and looks over his shoulder as he backs out of the space.

“But next time, don’t throw any punches, okay? Or at least let me throw the first one. I have to keep up my image.”

Keith snorts at that; he can’t help it. When he glances over at Shiro again, he sees that weird smile again and shakes his head. _Adults are so weird._


End file.
